


I'll Walk Through Walls Into Your Heart

by taqarat



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, post trk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taqarat/pseuds/taqarat
Summary: But what Ronan couldn’t handle, what he couldn't fix, was when he made Adam cry. It didn’t happen often, but once was enough. For some people that might make them walk on eggshells but Ronan wanted to fucking stomp those eggshells to smithereens. Because the times he made Adam cry were the tender, tender moments when Ronan was saying everything in his heart with his actions.Another soft fic where Ronan and Adam help each other deal with past trauma.





	1. One

Ronan had gotten a perverse joy out of pushing people's buttons from a very young age. Even before the shit hit the proverbial fan the summer of his 16th year. Even when he was a carefree, adored middle son of a seemingly happy family. It could probably be traced back to the point in his childhood when Declan had decided that Ronan was no longer his best friend and was now just an annoying little brother. If he was going to be treated like an obnoxious brat, well…. he might as well _be_ one.

 

And after that summer, when his view of the world and himself and his family turned upside down, it actually served a purpose. If someone was going to be put off by the verbal barbs and sarcastic bullshit Ronan threw at them, they certainly couldn’t handle the actual molten lava that boiled within him and threatened to spill out on anyone he got close to. He wouldn’t call it a test, necessarily, but it worked that way. Without Gansey running interference for him Ronan probably wouldn’t have gotten close to a single new person in all of high school. Maybe ever.

 

Gansey was immune now, of course. He’d let the early stuff roll off him good-naturedly when they first met, somehow seeing through the bravado to what lay beneath. Then, after. After… after, Ronan had upped the ante - challenging Gansey in his fucked up way to up and leave now that Ronan was ruined. But, Gansey had stubbornly rolled with that too, no matter how vicious Ronan got and now…. well now there was really no hope for him. He was stuck with Ronan.

 

The rest of their classmates, and a good part of Henrietta proper, got the message loud and clear. Steer clear of the middle Lynch brother or deal with his barbed tongue and vicious wit. Which was exactly what Ronan wanted. 

 

So, he was used to upsetting people. He just hated, _hated_ when he did it without meaning to. Sometimes he learned of it after the fact. Like when he realized how he’d miscalculated Declan’s sacrifices. Or, how when he got caught up in his own pain, he might have disregarded Gansey’s love.

 

Sometimes he was confronted with it head on. That first fall when Gansey had brought Adam into the fold Ronan had unapologetically been his typical asshole self. And Adam had deflected it surprisingly well. But sometimes Ronan would push him just that extra inch over the edge and Adam wouldn’t speak to him for a good week.(That had hurt Ronan a thousand times more than he ever expected or would ever admit to). Or, more recently, when Blue would call him out on some remark he’d made that was vaguely sexist or racist. He always cavalierly blew her off with a snarky remark but inwardly he paid attention. Hopefully she’d never notice but, he was getting much better about that shit.

 

If Ronan was good at pissing people off, he was equally skilled at making amends in his own subtle, fucked up way. Eventually. To those that mattered. It was somewhat of an art form - figuring out the exact formula of contrition and self deprecation and _‘I’m not gonna say it but you know I mean it_ ’ love that would win them over every time.

 

But what Ronan couldn’t handle, what he couldn't fix, was when he made Adam cry. It didn’t happen often, but once was enough. For some people that might make them walk on eggshells but Ronan wanted to fucking stomp those eggshells to smithereens. Because the times he made Adam cry were the tender, tender moments when Ronan was saying everything in his heart with his actions. 

 

_***_  

The first time it was a normal Friday night. Normal in the epic, life-changing, axis-shifting, way that Friday nights had come to be since he and Adam had gotten together. It was Adam finally, finally pulling into the driveway of the Barns in his shitbox car at ass fucking thirty. It was Ronan greeting him nonchalantly on the porch and Adam seeing right through his casual greeting, knowing he’d been out there hoping for his arrival for an hour. It was hungry lips and frantic hands and muffled sounds that they would never admit to in the light of day as they fumbled their way inside.

 

That Friday Adam pushed him up against the wall in the hallway to kiss his neck in a way that they’d both recently discovered made Ronan crazy. Ronan, in retaliation, got his hands under Adam’s shirt to brush over the expanses of warm, freckled skin. But what he felt there made him pause. Adam was always on the slim side but his ribs felt even sharper under his skin than only a week ago.

 

Ronan pulled away a few inches. “Dinner,” he grunted in explanation. 

 

“Busy,” Adam replied as he continued to press his hot lips into Ronan’s neck. 

 

Ronan couldn’t help but let him carry on another minute or two but when Adam reached for the hem of his shirt Ronan pulled away decisively. “Seriously, it’s all made. Come eat.” Adam looked like he was thinking about arguing but Ronan cut him off. “I haven’t seen you in a week, Parrish. What I have planned is going to take some stamina.”Adam huffed a small laugh and allowed himself to be pulled into the kitchen.

 

They ate the bowls of spaghetti and meatballs sitting on the kitchen counter shoulder to shoulder. Adam, despite his earlier contrariness, seemed to enjoy it - a lot - confirming Ronan’s suspicions that he’d missed several meals recently. He tamped down that frustration by scarfing down his own food. When he finished, he slid off the counter and started pressing kisses into Adam’s shoulder as he scraped the remnants from his bowl. 

 

Ronan moved his lips to the ticklish spot under his ear, making Adam laugh, sweet and easy. That sound, honestly, was every bit as good as the sighs and moans he’d elicited on the front porch.

 

“Hurry up,”Ronan grumbled.

 

“So bossy tonight.”

 

“Impatient,” he countered and he must’ve still been drunk on the sound of Adam’s laugh because he added, “want you to get bossy”.

 

Adam set his bowl down and pulled Ronan’s face into his view. His smile was impish and heart stopping. “Yeah? You like that?” he teased.

 

Ronan tried to stop the furious blush on his cheeks by force of will alone. “Fuck off, Einstein. Like you haven’t noticed.”

 

Adam tilted his head back smiling, pleased and confidant. Ronan’s heart hurt with how intensely happy that made him feel. “Yeah,” Adam answered. “Yeah, I have noticed. Hadn’t had the chance to put the theory fully to the test just yet.”

 

Ronan just raised his eyebrows expectantly as if to say, ‘ _What are you waiting for?’_ Adam laughed again and pushed Ronan towards the stairs.

 

 *** 

Afterward, they were sated and sleepy, loose limbed from their antics and loose lipped with their affection. They laid facing each other which meant that Adam’s hands were conveniently laying between them very close to Ronan’s mouth. He subtly shifted closer so his lips were resting against them. The rest of their bodies were tangled together and Adam was just barely conscious so he shouldn’t have noticed. Apparently he did.

 

“What is it with you and my hands?” he teased sleepily.

 

Shit. “What can I say? I’m a man of complicated interests.”

 

“I think it’s pretty simple actually. Pretty sure it’s called a hand kink.”

 

Ronan smiled wickedly and licked up the side of Adam’s thumb.

 

“You’re so weird.”

 

“Are you kink-shaming me Parrish? So judgy.”

 

That made Adam laugh which made Ronan’s embarrassment worth it. He knew Adam was exhausted and that he should probably let him sleep, but he loved Adam like this. Too tired to hide his accent or keep his emotions carefully in check. 

 

Adam continued to watch him, a soft smile on his lips, his eyes just barely open. When he drifted off a few minutes later Ronan went back to pressing his lips against Adam’s knuckles.

 

He loved those hands. Not just because they were beautiful to him in their long fingered, knobby, gracefulness. But also because Ronan had discovered early on in their friendship that they were a window into Adam’s private thoughts. Adam had always been hard to read - so careful in what he allowed to express on his face and in his words. Ronan knew that had been part of his survival mechanism as a child. He’d worn a careful mask since. But Ronan had always been good at reading body language and physical signs.

 

Ronan’s father, for example, always put his hands behind his head when the outrageous story he was telling broke from the truth and turned into a tall tale. Declan’s shoulders creeped up just before he was going to say something that Ronan wouldn’t like. Gansey had a series of smiles that meant different things - all seemingly courteous and genuine to outsiders - but Ronan could see clear as day when he was angry or stressed or just bored and dialing it in. Blue scowled when she was complimented for something she really cared about - a trait that was disgustingly familiar. 

 

And Adam’s tell was his hands. When Ronan first met him and would goad and tease and bully, Adam would act cold and unaffected. But his hands would tell another tale. They’d subtly grip his pen harder or clench into a fist in his pocket. When he was in bad shape physically - deprived of rest and nutrition - they’d get dry and chapped and angry. And when he was dangerously close to the edge of breaking, he’d hold them at his side, overextending his fingers so they arched slightly backwards and they’d tremble. At those moments Ronan longed to take Adam’s hands in his own and caress the tension out. Before that was allowed he’d convince Adam to let the stress out another way. Pulling each other on dollies behind the BMW in the parking lot, or reckless rides in grocery carts.

 

Adam’s hands had also told him when the intense feelings that Ronan had felt for Adam started to be returned. They’d relax a minute amount when Ronan sat close to Adam. They’d subtly point in his direction when they all sat in a group. They lay open and accepting when Ronan had taken the toy car from them on his childhood bed and kissed Adam for the first time.

 

Ronan hadn’t realized his obsession had been noticed by Adam, but with him safely asleep he indulged it a bit. He brushed his lips back and forth across the thin skin on the back of his hand; traced lazy circles with his thumb on Adam’s wrist; breathed his name into the spaces between his fingers. Sleep was still a long way off but he closed his eyes and tried to match his breath to Adam’s. 

 

So he noticed when Adam’s inhale started to get shallower, quicker, stilted. When his hand curled into a tight fist. Ronan’s eyes flew open while the rest of him froze. Adam’s eyes were squeezed shut tight, his chin was quivering, his cheeks were wet with tears. He was totally soundless but he must’ve realized that Ronan was awake because he tugged his hands free and started to turn away.

 

Ronan panicked as he watched Adam hide his face and curl in on himself, silent and small. He worried it was something he did; worried that he fucked up; worried that however he reacted was going to make it worse. But then he realized why Adam made himself small and silent in his anguish. And fuck that. Fuck Robert Parrish and that shithole trailer and his pathetic mom. Fuck stifling and cowering and hiding and fuck leaving Adam to be alone in his pain. Jesus Christ. It was crushing to think that a little bit of tenderness would drive Adam to react this way. 

 

So, he gathered up as much of Adam as he could: his wet face, his matted hair, his freckled shoulders, his jutting elbows. He pulled all of it onto his chest and tucked it under his chin. There was a chance, a really high one, that it would backfire; that Adam would push him away; that physicality was the last thing he wanted. But Adam’s pain was his pain now and if he couldn’t say it he had to show him, somehow.

 

Miraculously Adam stayed there. He cried soundlessly on his chest while Ronan stroked his back and silently cursed everyone that ever had or ever would hurt this perfect boy.

 


	2. Two

Adam woke up to an empty bed. That wasn’t surprising for a Saturday. He was getting better at sleeping in and Ronan had farm chores and a hoofed girl that seemed to always rise with the sun.

 

He found Ronan in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew. Adam felt a bit sheepish. He knew Ronan wouldn’t pity or judge him for his breakdown but it was still embarrassing. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it. He hesitated only a moment before deciding the best plan was to go ahead and act like it was any other morning. He shuffled over to Ronan to put his arms around his neck and lean against him while they waited for the coffee to be ready. But Ronan caught his wrist before he could complete the action. He looked Adam in the eye and then slowly, softly brought Adam’s palm to his face and turned in to kiss it.

 

Adam’s heart surged in his chest. This was Ronan calling him out on last night in his tender Ronan way. He was saying, ‘that happened and I’m acknowledging it,’ and ‘we don’t have to talk about it but I’m willing to if you are,’ and ‘I’m not going to avoid setting you off again because I know you’re not fragile.’

 

Adam tucked his head into Ronan’s neck and released all the pent up air in his lungs, allowing all the tension to leave his body. They stayed like that for a long while. Finally, Adam pulled away a fraction of an inch and opened his mouth to say something. He wasn’t sure what. He knew he didn’t need to apologize or explain but he felt he owed Ronan something.

 

Before he could get the words out Ronan interrupted. “It’s the sex isn’t it?” Adam pulled away even further in confusion. “It’s too fucking good. I was afraid this might happen.”

 

Adam smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Ronan. You guessed it. Your skills in the bedroom just overwhelmed my tender sensibilities.”

 

Ronan nodded gravely. “I knew it. I’m not surprised really. I can try to tone it down a bit if that would help but I’m not guaranteeing anything. I mean with all this going on…” he gestured down the length of his body “there’s only so much I can do.”

 

Adam smiled up at the ceiling. “And so humble, too."

 

“Pretty sure you didn’t sign up for humble.”

 

“A little humility wouldn’t hurt, frankly.” Adam pulled away to pour himself some coffee.

 

“Overrated. Is that what you were saying last night in bed? Oh, Ronan, yes, yes, you’re so humble….”

 

Adam shook his head and tried not to let on how amused he was by all this. “Ok. I’m going to go get started on my econ homework. You and your ego have a good time without me.”

 

Adam set up camp in the living room, sprawled out with his books and his papers over the big comfy couch. Ronan sauntered in a bit later. “Move your crap, Parrish,” he warned, giving Adam just a few seconds to clear a space before he flopped down beside him. He was carrying a large plate piled high with cinnamon toast and bacon and fruit. Adam was familiar with this ploy. Ronan would act like an asshole to camouflage the fact that he’d done something nice. He’d make enough food for two but put it all on one plate so that Adam wouldn’t object. He’d make finger food so that Adam would pick at it distractedly while he worked. In the end, Adam ate a full meal that Ronan had cooked for him but somehow they both came out the other side with their dignities in tact. 

 

They spent the rest of the day not talking about the crying incident. Adam worked on a paper. Ronan worked on a fence. Opal constructed a large, elaborate nest by the mudroom door that she claimed was for napping. It was oddly beautiful in it’s own way, made up of sticks and yarn and hay. But on closer inspection Adam noticed an alarming amount of old boots, chicken wire, and styrofoam peanuts. There also appeared to be an entire roll of wrapping paper with scenes of the baby Jesus woven through which he found both off-putting and strangely fitting.

 

Despite his schoolwork and upcoming shift at the factory, Adam couldn’t stop analyzing his breakdown. Ronan didn’t expect an explanation but apparently Adam’s subconscious did. 

 

He knew exhaustion had been a huge part of it. He’d taken on way too many hours at the factory the past week. A coworker had asked Adam to cover several shifts when he came down with the flu and Adam had stupidly agreed to take all of them. He wasn’t even sure why. He was doing better financially than in the past but saying yes to more shifts was a habit he couldn’t break. In hindsight, he knew he’d pushed himself too far. By the time he’d pulled up to the Barns he’d missed too many hours of sleep and too many meals to be healthy or sustainable.

 

There was more to it than exhaustion, of course. It wasn’t even just the way Ronan caressed Adam’s hands in a way that made him feel so wanted, so needed, so loved. It was the sight of him waiting on the porch for Adam to arrive. It was the smell of the dinner Ronan had cooked for them. It was the feel of the soft, pillowy comforter on the bed they shared. It was the sound of Adam’s name on Ronan’s lips over and over again when Adam touched him. It was how all these seemingly small acts added up to this huge thing that pulsed ‘wanted, worthy, cherished’ in an endless loop in his heart.

 

It was something so much bigger than the sum of its parts. And Adam loved it and hated it in equal measures. At times it made him so happy he felt like his heart might burst. But other times it made him sad. Sad for the kid he used to be that never felt such love and tenderness. Sad for his future self because with college looming on the horizon he was going to have to leave it behind for months at a time. He wasn’t sure he could do it. For the first time ever, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. 

 

And then there was the thing that Ronan had said last night. Adam had tried to push it out of his brain ever since but now that he was giving in to his tendency to over analyze he had to admit it was a large part of his emotional deluge. A trigger maybe. It was such a stupid little thing, two words. It wouldn’t mean a thing to most people, but Adam couldn’t deny its impact anymore. 

 

It had started when Adam had pushed Ronan onto the bed last night. Ronan had landed with an, “ow! Fuck!” that had made Adam panic that he’d taken the ‘I like it when you get bossy’ too far. But Ronan had then held up a pinecone that he’d pulled from under his back. 

 

“What is that?” Adam had asked through his relief.

 

“Booby trap _a la_ Opal, I believe. She was mad when I put her to bed tonight. Guess this was my payback.” Adam raised his eyebrows, needing further explanation. “She was missing you, wanted to see you. I made her sleep in her own room but she kept asking to sleep here, in our bed.”

 

Our bed. _Our_ bed. He’d said that. 

 

This thing between them was all still very new. They hadn’t said _boyfriend_. They hadn’t said _love_. They both knew that this was serious and true but there were some words that just were still too big for them as they floundered like newborn colts trying to find their balance.

 

And yet Ronan had said _that_ and Adam had frozen and Ronan… Ronan had noticed. Adam had stayed frozen for too long and had seen the panic on Ronan’s face. He should’ve smiled. He should’ve said, _I like that you said that_. Should’ve at least made a joke to lessen the strain in the moment. Instead he’d stared at Ronan for far too long then pushed him back and kissed him fiercely. 

 

Now he worried that he’d screwed that up too. Ronan had put his heart out there, given of himself so generously yet again, and Adam had pulled back and stayed silent and given nothing back. Because what did he have to give? 

 

Ronan had a beautiful house and bountiful land and loving brothers and a generous heart that he offered up to Adam without hesitation. And what did Adam have to offer in return? A crappy apartment with substandard heat? A few hours a week between his jobs and schoolwork? His careful heart that wanted so much but was tentative and inexperienced in giving?

 

By mid afternoon Adam had a plan. It wasn’t a great one but it was the best he could come up with. He’d made a few quick phone calls, buckled down to finish the last bits of his homework, then strolled out to the field to find Ronan. He timed it just right. Ronan was packing up the last of his tools in his tool box. He looked sweaty and tired and beautiful.

 

Ronan smiled when he caught sight of Adam. "Hey, I was just going to come in to say goodbye. You leave for your shift soon, right?”

 

“Nope,” Adam answered as casually as possible. 

 

Ronan, in response, just raised his eyebrows.

 

Adam climbed up to sit on the top rail of the fence feigning nonchalance. It was a precarious perch but Ronan immediately stepped between his knees to stabilize him. “I got a coworker to cover for me,” Adam said. “He needed to make up some shifts since he was sick all week.”

 

Ronan tucked his chin in, confused. “You gave up a shift because someone else needed the hours?”

 

Adam tilted his head to look Ronan directly in the eye and tamped down his nerves. “I gave up a shift because I wanted to spend the rest of the day with you.” Adam paused then added, “other Saturdays too. I rearranged my schedule to have most of them off.”

 

He watched several emotions cross Ronan’s face: confusion, disbelief, suspicion that he was being punked. He even saw the snarky comment form and then die on Ronan’s lips when he finally caught on. Adam bit his lip and kept looking at him, silently pleading, _‘take this pathetic gift. My time is the only precious thing I have to offer and I’m giving it to you.’_

 

Ronan looked away, squinting into the sun as if the brightness was what was bothering his eyes. After several long moments he looked back at Adam but cleared his throat before he spoke.

 

“Ok slacker. What were you thinking we’d do with all this time?”

 

Adam attempted desperately to hide his relief but he couldn’t stop the pleased smile completely. “I was thinking that we could go for a drive this evening. Maybe end up at that one diner with the gravy fries for dinner? Then stop on the way back at that overlook you like and do some star gazing?”

 

"Well damn. Those are all _my_ fancy date moves, Parrish.”

 

“Why mess with perfection?”

 

Ronan was clearly shyly pleased. He glanced back in the direction of the sun as if to point out that it was still far from setting. “And what do you want to do until then?”

 

Adam took a deep breath, his fingers tracing the edges of Ronan’s tattoo on his neck. “I was thinking we could go back to bed for a few hours,” he drawled as sweetly as he could, willing his ears not to turn pink.

 

“Hours? That’s ambitious.”

 

Adam shrugged. “I’m told it is one of my better qualities.”

 

Ronan’s smile was as wide and bright as the sky they were standing under. “Well fuck. Who am I to hold Adam Parrish back from his ambitions?”

 

Adam smiled back and pulled Ronan in to a long, slow kiss. When he was good and breathless Adam pulled back a fraction of an inch to say his last bit. “To our bed?” he asked motioning with his head towards the house, just as breathless as Ronan.

 

Ronan looked at him and if Adam didn’t know any better he’d say his expression was sad. He dropped his head heavily to Adam’s shoulder. “Fuck Adam,” he croaked. Then he nodded, face still hidden, but it was a long time before he straightened up and pulled Adam toward the house.


End file.
